“I put her somewhere safe and tried to repair some of her lacks. I found a capable bodyguard for her, a woman who could teach her the ways a woman can protect herself. And a few other skills as well.
“But I misjudged her stepfather. Her mother would have swiftly forgotten her: She is as maternal as a snake. But I underestimated the thwarted greed of her husband, and his cleverness. I was certain I had concealed Shine. I still do not know how he found her, but fear I have a rat within my spy-ranks. I did not fully grasp the lengths to which her stepfather would go to repair the blow to his pride, though her mother is not innocent, either. They tried to poison Shine and killed a kitchen boy instead. Did they mean to kill her, or simply make her ill? I don’t know. But the dose was enough to kill a small boy. So again, I had to move her, and again I had to show them that I am not someone to trifle with.” He folded his lips tightly. “I have had him watched. He simmers with hate and dreams of vengeance. I intercepted a letter that bragged he would be avenged upon both Shine and me. So you see why I am convinced this is his hand at work again.”
“And I am almost certain it is linked to those who pursue the Fool. But soon we shall know.” I hesitated, then asked, “Chade. Why do you tell me these things only now?”
He gave me a cold stare. “So you will understand the lengths to which I’ll go to in order to protect my son and regain my daughter.”
I met his gaze angrily. “Do you think I will do less to bring Bee back?”
He looked at me for what seemed a long time. “Perhaps you will. I know you wonder if it is a kindness to force your folk to remember. I tell you this plainly. Kind or unkind, I will open each of their minds and find what they know, down to the youngest child or oldest gaffer. We have to know every detail of what happened that day. And then we must act on it, without delay. We cannot undo whatever has befallen them. But we can make the culprits pay in pain. And we can bring our daughters home.”
I nodded. I had not let my mind go to those dark places. Bee was young and very small. No one could think her a woman. But for some men, that did not matter. I thought of Elm’s tottering gait and was sickened. Must we indeed force the little kitchen girl to remember what had been done to her?
“Go fetch the elfbark,” Chade reminded me. “It will take time to brew.”
Chapter Fourteen
Elfbark
… and worst of all, hemlock is likely to grow next to the useful and pleasant watercress. Mind that the lads and lasses sent to gather watercress are mindful of this.
Carris seed is an evil herb; there is little excuse ever to use it. The practice of sprinkling a bit of it on tops of cakes at festivals is an abomination. The user will experience exhilaration and a sense of physical well-being. While using it, a man or woman may feel the heart beat faster, feel warmth in the cheeks of the face and in the organs of the groin. The urge to dance, to run, to sing loudly, or to rut without regard for the consequences becomes strong. The effects of the seed wear off suddenly, and then the user may drop in exhaustion and sleep a full day through. In the next handful of days, the user will be weary, disgruntled, and sometimes feel pain in the spine.
Of evil herbs, the next culprit is elfbark. It is, as the name implies, bark scraped from the elf tree. The more potent bark will be on the tips of the newest growth. The elf trees that grow in pleasant valleys produce the mildest bark, while those that grow in more rigorous circumstances, such as on sea cliffs or windswept mountainsides, produce a bark that is more dangerous to the user.
The most common use for elfbark is to make a strong tea of it. This gives the user a burst of stamina and can enable the weary traveler or fieldworker to persevere through the most difficult conditions. But stamina is not spirit. While elfbark may mask the pain of an injury or the aching of weary muscles, it brings with it a heavy heart and a discouraged spirit. Those who use it to extend the hours of their work must have a strong will to continue to pursue their tasks, or an overseer who is merciless.
—Twelve Unfortunate Herbs, unsigned scroll
I walked through the halls of Withywoods. The Skill-whispering to forget, forget, it didn’t happen, they are not dead or gone, they never were, was like an icy wind in my face. Away from conversation with others, it sapped my will to do anything save the most rudimentary tasks. I desperately longed to take a nap by a warm fire with a soft blanket, and perhaps a glass of mulled cider to ease me into sleep. Shaking off that impulse was like pulling my sleeve free of plucking ghost-fingers.
The doors of my private study sagged slightly, the elegant wood around the latches splintered. I scowled. It hadn’t been locked, simply latched. There had been no need for that destruction, save for the glee of brutes in the grip of battle.
